


Aching now to let you in

by barrylen



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 00:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barrylen/pseuds/barrylen
Summary: To be perfectly honest, Barry would have never even dared to imagine that thisthingbetween him and Snart would even go this far. Now he just knows that he doesn't want it to stop. Even if Snart doesn't feel the same way about it as Barry does.





	Aching now to let you in

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Hurricane" by Fleurie.

To be perfectly honest, Barry would have never even dared to imagine that this _thing_ between him and Snart would even go this far. Now he just knows that he doesn't want it to stop. Even if Snart doesn't feel the same way about it as Barry does.

It's late in the afternoon and the beams of sunlight filtering in through the curtains bathe everything in a warm, orange glow. Snart and him are draped on the couch in the living room of Barry's apartment, both breathing heavily.

Barry's thighs are still trembling a little from effort, even if in the end he didn't ride Snart as much as he held on for dear life as Snart fucked up into him, pulling Barry's hips down with such a strong grip that he'd probably bruise if he didn't heal so quickly. Barry wasn't able to do anything else but tip forward, moaning into the hollow of Snart's throat when he came, then letting himself be used, feeling a new wave of arousal wash over him when Snart stilled inside him and gasped out his release.

Snart's arm is thrown over his face, covering his eyes, and Barry uses the opportunity to really _look_ at him for once. He looks gorgeous in the afternoon light, elaborate tattoos curling around parts of his arms and his torso, some of them interrupted by or covering raised scar tissue. His skin is shiny with sweat and Barry can't quite believe that he gets to see him like this, relaxed and with his guard down, even if that state never lasts for very long.

Barry sits up and exhales a shaky breath when Snart's softening cock slips out of him, his hole clenching around nothing. The only reaction from Snart is a lazy grunt and an almost non-existent twitch of his hips, and Barry huffs. The condom is disposed of quickly, and he's back on top of him in less than a second, straddling his hips.

Snart lifts his arm at the movement and looks at Barry with an unreadable expression on his face. Then his gaze drops down to between Barry's legs, and he snorts.

"Really, Barry? Again?"

"Shut up," Barry says, but he can't quite stop the corners of his mouth twitching up. He leans forward to cage Snart's shoulders with his forearms, resting them on the upholstery. From up close his eyes look entirely too knowing, as if he can see right into Barry's soul, and Barry closes the distance between them to brush their mouths together.

Snart hums and runs his hand up Barry's arm, up to his neck, and finally comes to rest in his hair. He curls his fingers into it and pulls Barry even closer to kiss him properly.

Barry doesn't think he'll ever get sick of this, feeling his lips move lazily against his own, opening up to him when he feels a hint of tongue against his bottom lip. Barry moans into his mouth when their tongues touch and he bucks his hips forward. The movement makes the head of his cock catch against Snart's hipbone and Barry moans again, repeating it.

"Come on, get me off," Barry murmurs against his mouth, earning himself a sharp nip to his bottom lip. He pulls away and frowns. Snart considers him closely and Barry returns the look, trying not to squirm under the close scrutiny.

"You're insatiable," Snart says finally. Barry is relieved to note that his tone sounds more amused than exasperated.

He sits up with Barry in his lap, and Barry lets himself be rearranged until he's sitting on the couch, leaning against the backrest with Snart kneeling on the floor between his legs.

Whatever Snart sees on his face makes him narrow his eyes in warning, and Barry yelps when he pinches his inner thigh, way too close to his balls. It's ridiculous that Barry's cock has lost none of its hardness, resting against his lower stomach, precome leaking from the slit.

Barry feels like he needs to say something, anything, but Snart cuts him off as soon as he opens his mouth.

"No sentiments, Barry, or I swear I'll get dressed and walk out of here right now."

Barry shuts his mouth so quickly that his jaw makes a clicking sound. Snart levels him with an unimpressed look and then finally— _finally_ —takes Barry's cock into his hand. Barry whines at the contact, possibly a little louder than he should have, and drops his head against the back of the couch. He doesn't bother to feel embarrassed about it.

Snart starts stroking his cock with a firm hand and Barry inhales a sharp breath, glancing down at him.

"You always get so wet," he murmurs, voice quiet and drawl gone, almost as if he didn't mean to say it out loud. The words rush through Barry like a surge of adrenaline and his hips twitch up. New precome dribbles from the slit, and Snart raises an eyebrow. "I see."

Then he leans forward and licks over the head, collecting the beads of precome, before sucking it into his mouth. He starts bobbing his head, tongue dragging against the underside of Barry's cock, flicking against the sensitive ridge.

"Oh my— _fuck_ ," Barry gasps and sinks his fingers into the couch upholstery, feeling light-headed. Snart hums in response, sounding way too satisfied with himself. The sensation almost becomes too much when he starts moving his hand to meet his mouth, getting Barry so wet he can barely breathe from being so turned on.

He looks stunning like this, lips stretched and moving up and down Barry's cock, eyelashes fanning out against his cheeks. Barry reaches out with one hand and moves it to Snart's face, thumb resting over his cheekbone. He closes his eyes and feels his jaw work, breath hitching when he can feel the head of his cock through his cheek.

Barry is so close he can almost taste it, toes curling, when he pulls off. Barry groans in frustration and opens his eyes, ready to take things into his own hands—literally—but Snart keeps jerking him, looking up at Barry with glassy eyes.

"You close?" he asks. His voice is a little rough. Just seeing him be this affected by giving head almost makes Barry shoot his load on the spot.

Instead, he manages a hasty nod and breathes a "Yeah," swallowing down the word-vomit that is trying to escape him, featuring declarations such as _You're beautiful_ or _Please stay_ or even _I want to spend every single day with you_. But that’s not included in their arrangement; Barry crosses too many invisible lines as it is.

Snart makes a noncommittal sound and grips the undersides of Barry's knees, pulling him forward on the couch so that his ass is resting on the edge.

Barry leans back out of his own volition, breath quickening in anticipation when he realizes what he's planning. Leave it to him to be as thorough getting someone off (for the second time, even) as he is when preparing one of his jobs. When a slow smirk spreads over Snart's features, it has an edge of cheekiness to it, and Barry's breath catches in his throat.

He leans down to take Barry's cock back into his hand and into his mouth, sucking with his eyes half-closed. With his other hand, he strokes along his balls before moving further back to press two fingers against his perineum. Barry's mouth drops open at the pleasure shooting up his spine and he tilts up his hips, a silent proposition for Snart to press down a little harder, or a little lower.

He pulls off for a moment, then runs his tongue over the head of Barry's cock, dipping into the slit. Barry whines half out of pleasure, half out of frustration, because god, he's _close_. But he knows that begging would only make Snart drag the whole thing out further, so he bites down on his lip, forcing himself to stay quiet. It pays off; Barry jumps a little when he can feel his hand move further back from his perineum, spreading Barry's cheeks before running his fingertips over his still stretched hole in a gentle caress.

Barry tastes the blood before he realizes that he bit down on his lip a little too hard, and he curses when he feels one of Snart's fingertips press just slightly inside of him.

To hell with not begging.

"Come on, Le- Snart, just— _ah_ —just put them inside. _Come on_."

It's almost comical when Snart raises his eyebrows at him, mouth still around his cock. What was supposed to be a laugh cuts off into a high whine when he follows his wish and slides two fingers into him at once, the remaining lube easing the way.

He proceeds to thrust them inside of him, knuckles dragging against the sensitive skin of his opening, and picks up the pace of his bobbing. Barry throws his head back and presses a hand against his mouth in hopes that it will muffle the sounds he's making, but it only makes him more aware of the slick sounds of the lube, making his cheeks burn and his mouth water involuntarily.

So he gives up on trying to stifle the sounds escaping him and puts his hand to the back of Snart's head instead, running his fingers over the soft, short-cropped hair. They've done this often enough for Barry to know that he doesn't mind it, but still he asks, "Can I…?" before biting down on another moan. Snart must have understood him, because he makes an affirmative sound and Barry can feel his mouth go lax around him. It feels a lot hotter than it should.

Snart removes his hand from Barry's cock but continues to finger him when Barry starts thrusting his hips, carefully at first and then more firmly. Barry is certain that the sight of his cock fucking into his mouth, eyes teary and spit running down his chin, just _taking_ it, will provide him with jerking off material for _ages_.

"Almost there. Fuck, almost there," he whispers and continues to roll his hips.

He feels himself tighten around Snart's fingers and he picks up the pace, chasing his orgasm. His legs are shaking from the tension and Snart tilts his head back a little further, watching Barry from under his eyelashes. Barry can't muster up the strength to maintain eye contact; despite the position they're in, it feels too intimate, too telling. He rests his head back against the couch again and closes his eyes.

Snart presses his tongue against the underside of his cock so it drags against the sensitive vein and ridge with every thrust, making the heat pooling in Barry's groin almost unbearable. And then his fingers find Barry's prostate, pressing against it, and Barry is done for, not able to control the sounds escaping him.

The world fades away around him and he can't think of anything but the way Snart's mouth feels around him, so hot and wet and tight, how his fingers feel inside of him, how it felt like to be fucked by him.

"I'm gonna… oh my god, I'm so close, _fuck_ , Len, I'm coming—"

He breaks off with a breathless moan when Snart strokes his fingers over his prostate with precision, and Barry thrusts forward a little too far, tip brushing against the back of his throat, and then he comes _hard_ , shooting off into his mouth.

He pushes his hand against the back of Snart's head so he doesn't move away because it just feels _too good_ , and Snart lets him continue fucking his mouth, catching the come spurting from his cock on his tongue. Snart makes a low, appreciative sound in the back of his throat and withdraws his fingers from Barry's ass, all the while swirling his tongue around the head and sucking lightly to draw out the last few drops.

Barry lifts his head and watches as he rolls his hips to push back into his mouth a few last times, riding out the aftershocks. He vaguely registers Snart's throat working as he swallows. It's so hot that Barry feels a little faint.

Snart draws back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He picks something up from the floor— _Barry's t-shirt_ —and wipes both of his hands on it. Barry makes a face at him but waits until he's finished, then leans forward and cups his jaw, bringing their faces together.

He heaves an exasperated sigh against Barry's mouth but acquiesces, letting him tilt his head back to kiss him. Barry sucks at Snart's bottom lip to coax him to open his mouth, desperate to file away the memory of the taste of himself on his tongue. He knows that Snart is humoring him, allowing him to do this even after they've finished having sex. Still, he deepens the kiss, licking into his mouth, hoping that he will stay just a little longer.

As if hearing his thoughts, Snart pulls back in an abrupt movement and turns away from Barry wordlessly, starting to pick his clothes off the floor. Barry swallows and watches him dress out of the corner of his eye, then stands up, too. He puts on his boxers and crosses his arms in front of his chest, suddenly self-conscious.

He doesn't want Snart to leave.

They're caught up in some sort of vicious cycle; Snart showing up each time the Legends touch down in Central City, spending a couple hours at Barry's apartment and then vanishing without leaving any indication that he's ever been there. Barry knows that whatever they're doing can't be healthy, but he sure as hell doesn't want to give it up either. Even if it means pretending that he doesn't want _more_.

Snart shrugs on his parka, puts on his boots and turns around, giving Barry a suggestive once-over, just like Barry expected he would. Back to the Cold persona, then.

Barry wonders if he knows that his lips are a little swollen and red, that his cheeks are flushed, and that there is still a light sheen of sweat on his face. He looks like, well, exactly what he was doing mere minutes ago. It makes Barry's stomach ache with want.

"Thanks for the fuck, Scarlet," Snart says, laying the drawl on thick, as he moves into the direction of the door. "I'll be in touch." With a last leer at Barry he opens the door and steps outside. When the door clicks shut, Barry sinks back down on the couch and drags a hand over his face, a little frustrated with himself.

Barry exhales, suddenly feeling exhausted, and he gets up to start tidying up the mess they made. He moves around the room at normal speed, savoring the mild pain he feels in his sore muscles and his ass; it will be gone in a few hours, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments will DEFINITELY make my day.  
> You can also come yell at me on my [tumblr](http://barrylen.tumblr.com)!


End file.
